


Boys Being Boys

by Alethia



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Alec is the Master, Breaking the Guy Code, Drunken Shenanigans, Episode Related, Explicit Language, Gen, Kicked out of Bed, Max is a No-Fly Zone, Pining, So much drinking, brothers in arms, shit-talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-01
Updated: 2006-08-01
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Biggs shows up one day. To Alec, this is the best thing ever. Except for the part where Biggs knows him way too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys Being Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Alec 'n Biggs loud-mouthed, foul-mouthed, innuendo-laden drunken-stumbling bff fic. Set between 2.19 "She Ain't Heavy" and 2.20 "Love Among the Runes." Originally posted [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/217404.html).

Crash was the usual oddball mix of noisy and comfortable and Alec smiled, only a little, to himself about how usual it felt. Belonging wasn’t such a bad thing. Or some shit like that.

A voice boomed loud from right behind him: “What’s a man gotta do to get a drink around here?”

Alec stilled. “I know that voice.” He turned on his stool, surprised by how not-surprised he was to see Biggs, standing there, grinning like a fool.

Alec immediately slouched into something appropriately disparaging. “Look what the street threw up. You look like shit.”

“Ah, how I’ve missed your sweet nothings.” And it was Biggs’ hand at his heart that did it, making Alec crack a grin, stand and pull the man into a rib-squeezing, back-thumping, manly badass of a hug, laughing into Biggs’ shoulder and not caring about all the looks people were shooting their way.

Alec pulled back, hands braced on Biggs’ shoulders, grinning. Because even if he wasn’t surprised, he still couldn’t believe it.

Biggs didn’t really look like shit—none of them ever could—more like he’d been traveling forever and a day and was damn tired of it, circles under his eyes, clothes rumpled, skin a little too pale for his normal complexion. 

Alec thumped him soundly on the shoulders. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Out on assignment in some forgotten shithole of a country. Do you know how hard it is to get back into the US without the right papers? It actually made me appreciate Lydecker.” Off Alec’s look, he grinned. “No worries; I recovered my sanity, especially with the time I spent laying low in Mexico. Mmm. Missed out on some good times, man.” He closed his eyes briefly, like in fond remembrance, and Alec grinned.

“I don’t doubt it.” Alec tugged him back to the bar and signaled for a couple drinks. “You stayin’?”

“Well, seeing as I don’t have a place to live or a job or anything…” Biggs baited, eyes smirking even if he wasn’t.

Alec shook his head and punched him lightly on the arm. “Ah, fuck you. I have a couch. And we can get you sorted in the morning. How’d you find me?”

“I asked someone for the seediest pick-up bar around. And what makes you think I was looking for you, fucker?” Biggs took a swipe at Alec’s head, chuckling when Alec jerked back and eyed him, letting Biggs see all the ways he’d fuck him up if he ever tried it for real.

Then Alec rolled his eyes and smirked. “Please. No one can resist this beautiful face,” he said, gesturing to said face breezily.

“Seems like you need to let the rest of the world in on that,” a voice said over his shoulder, and Alec turned on a smirk, sweeping his eyes up and down and all around Max’s hot little body. 

“Maxie, one of these days I’m gonna scale that brick wall of denial and you won’t be able to walk for a week. ‘Course, it’s probably better this way, since I’d ruin you for every other man in the world,” he added, like an afterthought, not even caring when her lips thinned—

And then she suddenly smiled sweetly at him. That was actually more worrisome.

“Enough to make a girl switch teams. Quite the accomplishment.” She affected a mock-proud pose and her hair feathered across her cheek. It was…somewhat distracting.

But he wasn’t about to go there.

Alec leaned back on the stool, closing his eyes and briefly reveling the image she’d conjured. He opened them again, using his most charming smirk. “Hey, any time you and OC wanna get down to it, just let me know. I’ll sit very quietly in a corner, swear.”

Max smacked him upside the head, but her eyes were glittering in the low lights, so score one for him. A quick glance showed Biggs raising an eyebrow and eyeing Max, and yeah, right. Introductions.

“Max, this is Biggs, Biggs, Max. Biggs is another of our alums.” 

Max raised her eyebrows briefly, but nodded, smiling politely at him. “Well, then, welcome. I’d say any friend of Alec’s, but you don’t look like the type to stoop so low.”

“Ouch, Max. And I thought we were gonna get matching halves of a broken locket. Ruin my plans, why don’t you?”

“But Alec, it’s my favorite pastime.” She smiled sweetly at him for a beat before turning back to Biggs. “Nice meeting you.” She nodded to Biggs, collected her new pitcher, and sauntered off, ass swaying. Alec took a moment to enjoy the view before pulling himself back to Biggs—also enjoying the view, that wicked little smile in place. That probably wasn’t good.

Biggs finally unglued his eyes from Max’s ass—possibly due to Alec kicking Biggs’ barstool…but only possibly—and turned back to him, shaking his head, brown eyes practically glowing they were so gleeful. “Man, you are so royally fucked.”

Pronouncement made, he turned back to the bar, tapping it with his glass. “Barkeep, my friend over here’s gonna need another drink. Or twelve.”

Alec eyed him askance, wondering if all that time on the road had fucked with him or something. “I don’t know what you’re—”

Biggs didn’t let him finish, just went on musing, like Alec wasn’t even a part of the conversation. “So, so fucked. Actually, it’s kind of funny how fucked you are.”

Alec tilted his head, staring at the multicolored wall behind the bar and considering. “Maybe a little voice inside my head will suddenly start translating and your babble will become comprehensible. It could happen.”

Biggs grinned and raised his fresh glass at the bartender, swiveling around to slide his eyes to Max…and then back to Alec.

Alec blinked. And got it. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. I know that look.” He took a sip from the glass, amber liquid catching the light and winking at Alec before he set it down again.

“You don’t know shit and also, no way. She’s—a holy terror.” He fortified himself with a gulp from his newly-refreshed drink because, just, Biggs was full of it.

“Hey, didja ever hear about that game people play with Chinese fortune cookies?”

Alec’s eyes glazed a little on that thought, but no, not going there. “No. Also, fuck you.”

Biggs grinned, big and bright and too innocent by half so he had to be plotting something. “So you wouldn’t mind if I went over there and, you know, had a little chat with Maxie. I’ve been traveling an awful long way.”

Alec snorted, shooting Biggs an ‘if you only knew’ look. “You could try, if you wanted to end up covered in beer and bruises before the night’s out.”

He shot Max a considering look, a man open to possibilities. “Kinky. I could be down with that.” The wicked grin appeared again and Alec couldn’t help but laugh into his Scotch, shaking his head at Biggs. Hadn’t changed a bit.

Alec shook his head, swirling his drink, considering the State of Max. He lowered his voice and leaned in: “Nah, she’s got some freaky deal with this ordinary. Our old employers really didn’t like the guy and infected her with a virus targeted to his DNA. They can’t touch.”

Biggs got it, smiling a little, bitter thing, before knocking his glass into Alec’s. “Master of the head fuck, that was our old job.”

Alec nodded the point, forcibly pushing away those memories. “Good riddance. But hey—” Someone moved in close behind Alec and he instantly recognized the man’s smell, cocked his head and smirked. Alec had known he’d been watching from a corner, but apparently he felt like pressing his luck tonight.

Then a thought occurred. Alec’s smile turned predatory. Oh, how he loved his life.

He cut off his sentence, turning his back smoothly to the bar and looking over at Casey on a cool smile.

Tall, blond, way too well-groomed Casey grinned back, eyes flitting way below the belt and not even trying to hide it. “Alec. Who’s your friend?”

Alec tsked himself and threw back his head, not missing how Casey’s eyes traveled the line of his throat. “Where are my manners? Casey, this is Biggs. He knows seven languages, has a wicked right hook, and just got back from traveling abroad. Biggs, this is Casey. He likes dick. See ya.” With that Alec turned and disappeared behind Casey and into a crowd of—mostly—welcoming women.

Loved his life so. Damn. Much.

***

Alec rolled with the punch to the back of his head, catching himself against the rough stone of the wall and laughing even before he turned around.

“You dick!” Biggs cried, but he was shaking his head and didn’t look actually pissed so it was all good.

“Biggs! How’d Casey’s protein fill-up go?” He thumped him on the chest soundly and Biggs totally deserved it. Biggs’ eyes said he knew he deserved it, but that didn’t keep him from having to defend his honor.

“Nonexistently and I’ll get you back. You won’t know when.” He said it deadpan, like a solemn vow to God and man, and Alec just bounced on his toes and smiled.

“Promises, promises.” Alec felt a small tug at the sleeve of his leather jacket and oh, right.

He nodded from Biggs to the very attractive girl standing opposite him against the wall. “Biggs, Monica, Monica, this is my old friend Biggs.” Tall, blonde, totally Biggs’ type. Alec had done her awhile back and she didn’t annoy him nor was she all clingy like a lot of girls, so they’d remained friendly. 

She smiled as Biggs kissed the back of her hand, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Oh, really? You know Alec?”

Alec answered her easily: “We go way back.”

“Yeah, how many girls did I steal from you again?” Biggs asked, settling in next to him and scratching his chin.

Alec pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. “Please. I got bored and tossed you some bones.”

“Keep telling yourself that, bro. So, Monica, how do you know Alec?” Alec raised an amused eyebrow at her as she flustered a little.

“Ummm…”

Biggs laughed and waved away the question. “Gotcha. Alec always did have a way with the ladies, you know.”

Monica’s voice went dry: “He still does, from what I hear.” Damn but women had an unbelievable intel network. It’d rival the military’s, he’d swear.

“Hey, now. I cannot help it if I am beloved by the female population of, you know, the world.” He gestured roundly with his hand, glass flashing in the light and lighting up Monica’s face.

“You might keep their love if you wouldn’t _love_ them and then run off,” Monica informed him, still dry as a southwest summer and pointed because of it.

“I do not run. I walk in a very dignified manner,” he corrected.

Biggs huffed out a laugh next to Alec, nudging him with his shoulder. “Aww, is our boy still a commitment-phobe? How sad.”

“Oh, you should be talking,” he scoffed.

“Hey, I am a changed man. I now realize the importance of serious relationships.” Alec stared like Biggs was an alien asking him to take him to their leader. Could they have replaced him with a pod person? Or, sadly more likely, a twin?

Monica nodded, though, looking absolutely entranced. “Yeah, guys just have to reach that point.”

Biggs nodded, like some kind of understanding your feelings bullshit, and nodded his head at Alec. “Alec’ll get there eventually. He just needs someone to beat him into it.”

Someone please rescue him from this hell on—“Oh, look, Sketchy’s waving at us. Excuse us, would you, Monica.”

“Sure,” she chirped, but Alec was already pushing Biggs forward, toward the table Sketch had commandeered. 

“The importance of serious relationships?” he growled into Biggs’ ear, shooting a placating smile back at Monica, still eyeing them from her wallspace, though he would admit to a little bit of pride as her eyes traced appreciatively over his ass. Yes, he knew these jeans were a good idea.

“Chicks eat that shit up, man. You should learn to talk the talk.” Alec burst out laughing, clapping Biggs on the shoulder and shaking his head.

Well, at least his friend hadn’t had a brain transplant. That was something.

***

Three pitchers in Sketchy started asking what he really wanted to know. “Wait, you and Alec, like, went to school together?”

“Mm-hmm. Boarding school.”

Sketch leaned in close; he’d had a few. Or more than a few. “So what was Alec like as a kid?”

“Hey, I’m right here, you know. Can’t exactly gossip about me when I’m sitting right here.” Alec waved his beer expansively, only to get scoffed at by Biggs. Scoffed at!

Biggs so deserved the swipe to the back of his head.

Biggs rubbed at his hair and grinned at him, unrepentant. “Sure we can. Alec was _such_ a troublemaker. You wouldn’t even believe it, he was _always_ in detention.”

Sketch turned proud eyes on him, admiring, like he was some sort of god. “My man Alec, a bad-boy from the start.” If he only knew.

“Yeah, all the teachers had such a love-hate relationship with him.”

“Yeah, they loved to hate me,” Alec cracked, smiling into his beer.

Biggs rolled his eyes at the old topic. “Oh, please. He’d get in trouble and I wouldn’t see him for months he’d be in detention for so long. Then he’d get off punishment and they’d give him all the good projects to do, all over again.”

“What can I say? I am the master.” He toasted himself, Biggs following much more grudgingly.

“‘Alec’s not reaching his full potential,’” Biggs mimicked a snooty professor-type and ha, if only it had been that funny back then. Or at all. Ever.

“I bet everybody wanted to be Alec,” Sketchy asserted, still that little gleam of hero-worship in his eyes.

Biggs started shaking his head as soon as the words left Sketchy’s mouth. “No way. Who’d want all that crap? Besides, it took the heat off the rest of us.”

“Aw, you’ve just redeemed my entire childhood. It was all for _you_ , Biggs.” Alec looked at him meaningfully, starting deep into his brown eyes with all the sincerity he could muster up.

Biggs picked that one up and ran with it: “Totally. Your existence is to serve me, bitch.”

“Wow, so you guys were, like, friends.”

“Brothers in arms, baby.” Biggs grinned at Sketchy, turned it on Alec, and it was sincere, something real behind that. Alec smiled back, feeling it in his eyes. Biggs tipped his chin in recognition…and broke the connection, looking over Alec’s shoulder and whistling lowly. “Gentlemen, I have just seen the gold-standard. Dirty blonde, four o’clock.”

Alec shifted to look, catching only the shortest glimpse before smirking back at Biggs. “Christine. Has a mouth like a—”

“Okay, thanks for that info,” Max interrupted, walking up and crossing disgusted arms over her chest. Logan stood slightly behind her, amused smile in place. Alec had this theory that Logan agreed with him on these things, but wouldn’t say so aloud. Honestly, what guy didn’t get this stuff? No one was that saintly.

But it wasn’t like he and Logan were gonna be getting all buddy-buddy anytime soon. 

Biggs nodded into his beer, like this was his lot in life. “Is there any piece of ass in this place you haven’t had?”

Alec grinned, obscenely proud. “A few.” His eyes flicked to Max, who raised her eyebrow like he could try, if he _wanted_ to land in an early grave. “But not very many. Hey, guys. Come to join us?”

“Yeah, but could we refrain from talking about how sluttiness is your true calling?” She and Logan grabbed chairs and helped themselves to the beer.

“Oh, if only we could all live that dream,” Sketchy moaned piteously, slumping over his arms. Way more than a few. And by the unattractively pale cast to his face, time for him to stop. Alec discreetly picked up Sketch’s beer and claimed it as his own. Guy didn’t even notice.

Way, way more than a few.

Alec snickered and drained the rest of the glass. “Sketch, you have no idea.”

Biggs slapped Sketchy on the shoulder companionably—possibly not the smartest move given Alec’s thoughts on the state of his stomach—and leaned in close. “Hey, don’t worry, Sketch. He’s been like this forever. He had this outrageous flirtation at school with this chick Sam—hey, Max, she looked kinda like you. Anyway, it was ridiculous, like beating each other up, sabotaging each other’s tests kinda ridiculous.”

“Sam from your school days who kinda looked like me?” Max asked, dark eyes pinning Alec like she’d be perfectly willing to take up that beef with him and also, he had some explaining to do.

Max could shove a lot of stuff into her looks.

Alec snapped his mouth shut on his comment and turned to Biggs. “I can have you killed, you know. Never even find the body.”

“C’mon, that makes no sense. Who’d tell stories about the old days, then?”

“He’s a quick one,” Alec said dryly, laughing and flinching away when Biggs stuck a finger in his ear.

Sketchy was not to be deterred, apparently. Which was kind of impressive given how much he’d had to drink. “So what happened with her?” he asked his arm. Or possibly the tabletop.

Biggs perked up. “Sam? She transferred to another school. Sad day for Alec.”

Huh? Sad day? News to him. 

He scratched his head obviously, like trying to remember some obscure fact that just wouldn’t come. “Yeah, what’d I do that day again?”

Biggs obviously remembered well enough. “Ah, fuck you. You were demoralized. I could tell.” He took a smirking swig of his beer, not giving an inch.

“By the stunning way I kicked your ass…on the football field,” he added the last for propriety’s sake, but everyone who knew would know exactly what he meant.

“Yeah, it’s a sad day when I have to be Sam’s substitute, when you decide to take out all that pent-up aggression on me, your poor, suffering friend.”

Alec choked on his beer he was laughing so hard. “You are _so_ full of shit, man.”

Sketchy groaned and moved a hand to his stomach, face going a little green, beer finally catching up with him. He’d lasted about seven minutes longer than Alec had anticipated. Maybe he was improving his tolerance after all. Alec felt a surge of masculine pride. Sketch could totally thank him. “I gotta—” Sketchy stumbled off toward the bathroom, pushing people out of his way as he went. Well, maybe that pride thing was a bit premature.

They all just shrugged; that was Sketchy for you.

Max actually smiled, shock of all shocks, and Alec was ticking off all sorts of new reasons having Biggs around was a Good Thing. “You know, Alec, I think I dislike you less when you’re with him.” She gestured to Biggs with her glass, pointed little smile on her face.

He held up a quelling hand, frowning. “Let me have a moment to descramble all the negatives in that statement.”

“You’re much less of an ass. Almost tolerable.” Max smiled and nodded to OC as she walked up and straddled Sketchy’s seat, sipping her beer and eyeing Biggs with interest.

“Why, Maxie, is that a compliment?” Alec asked, widening his eyes comically. “Be still my heart.” Max snorted and threw a pretzel at him. Alec caught it and promptly shoved it in his mouth.

“So, you two ever—” Biggs motioned between Alec and Max and Max sat up straight, a revolted look crossing her face.

“No! Ew!” 

Hey! He was not that repulsive! Just ask the vast majority of the female population of Crash. He’d certainly been good enough for _them_. Not that he could cut in with that since Biggs was on a roll.

“Not even during—“ Biggs stopped, just getting what he was about to say and looking to Alec for some kind of guidance.

“Yeah, they all know,” he said, gesturing around the table.

Biggs took that as it was and turned back in relief. “I was gonna say, not even during heat? Really?” Biggs pressed, frowning in disbelief.

Alec groaned and closed his eyes, the many, varied positions he could have Max in flitting behind his eyes. “Man, I wanna thank you for putting that image in my head. Appreciate it.”

“No problem.” The pat to his shoulder was light, almost motherly, and so Alec had to reopen his eyes and glare at the man for being so condescending. Moral imperative, even.

“What you two on about?” OC asked, clearly confused.

“Heat sex? Dude, heat sex is awesome. Like, kill-me-now-for-my-life-is-complete kind of awesome, with a side of mind-blowing. I’m Biggs, by the way.”

She nodded, not even raising an eyebrow at his words. “Original Cindy. Pleased to meetcha.” And how come he got the royal treatment and not the Evil Glare of Death like when Alec met OC?

Something to think about later.

“How would you know?” Alec asked, Biggs’ comment finally hitting. He didn’t remember any incidents back at Manticore and Biggs had been on solo missions like he had so…

Biggs waved an unconcerned hand, like it was nothing, despite all the joyful description he’d just been engaging in. This immediately told Alec something was up. “Ran into a female in heat, oh, six months back. Unbelievable, man. Morning after, not so much, but you know. Goes with the territory.”

“Who?” Alec asked, noting how Biggs had so blithely skipped over that little detail.

Biggs actually looked remorseful. Slightly. “387.”

Alec opened his mouth and shut it. Then he tried again. “You slept with Telora? You can’t do that. She was part of my unit.”

“Okay, one, heat sex. And two, you weren’t exactly around.” His tone was no-nonsense, but his eyes were just this side of plaintive.

Alec made a noise of protest, but well, it wasn’t like he could argue. Or do anything about it.

Logan cocked his head, assessing the two of them. Great. They’d sparked his interest. “Was there some sort of code of behavior in that situation?”

“No, never mind,” Alec said, flicking his eyes to Logan and then away, deliberate. He heard the other man shift, but didn’t look.

A mildly awkward moment took hold, the occupants of the table not speaking and the loudness of the rest of the bar filtering in, Jenna and Sari fighting over Mal—who was, in Alec’s opinion, a total dumbass—Murray losing at pool _again_ —he’d teach the kid, but man had he gotten a lot of cash from his ineptitude—Senna whispering to someone about the ride Alec had given her some months back and ooh, the word “unbelievable” had been used…

Biggs plowed right on through the awkwardness: “But back to my point. Heat sex: awesome. You should definitely indulge, that’s all I’m saying.”

Alec straightened from entertaining the thought of fucking Senna again—she hadn’t even been that annoyingly girly—and swung his gaze obviously to Max. “How ‘bout it, Maxie? Feel like going for a _ride_.”

“Okay, that was awful,” Biggs muttered, punching him on the arm.

Alec flinched back and grinned, only then getting a glimpse of Max’s icy glare. “What?” he asked, hands opening.

Max grabbed her beer and stiffly stood, walking away without a word. That was new for her. Max tended more toward the ranting tirade end of the spectrum rather than the passive aggressive moping bullshit most girls favored. With him, anyway.

Logan watched her go and then followed, frowning.

“What’d I say?” Alec asked.

“Talkin’ about sex with my boo when she can’t be with the one she really wants. You some genius. Figure it out,” OC said, Alec would swear, looking at him like a disapproving mother.

“What? It was a joke. I can’t joke?” he asked Biggs.

“Apparently not with Max. You ask me, she’s in some _dire_ need of heat sex.”

OC made a disgusted noise. “Boys and yo dicks. No, thank you. OC’s out.” She grabbed her beer and sauntered off to a group of ladies.

Alec eyed the deserted table, Sketchy probably passed out in the john by now. “Biggs, my friend, it would appear we’re not fit for company.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m all over company. I’m a companionable person.” He was looking off at a clump of women so obviously in bitch-in-heat mode—these more his style—and Jenny was looking back, that ridiculous come-hither look in place.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Jenny. C’mon, I’ll introduce you. But I’m telling you, her come face will make you laugh. And that’s just wrong.”

***

Biggs dropped his backpack unceremoniously to the floor, stretching out his back on a yawn, shirt riding up to show off tanned abs. Yeah, Mexico. Alec could use some sun himself. “Man, that girl was hot. Once I get my own place, I am making that a priority.”

Alec snickered and walked around him, heading for the bar and a glass of something good. Cheap beer at Crash was fine, but it was hell when he’d had the good shit. “Good to know I won’t be walking in on you balls-deep in some chick. Could scar me for life.”

“Yeah, I’d hate to bruise your ego like that. But thanks for letting me crash, man.” 

Alec scoffed. “Like I’m gonna let my guy stay in some broken-down shanty.” He held out the bottle of Scotch in offer but Biggs shook his head, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Still, I appreciate it.” And…he curiously wasn’t letting that go. Huh. It made Alec wonder just what had happened on the road.

Alec waved it away. “It’s done. Tomorrow we’ll see about getting you a job and a nice sector pass of your own.”

“Yeah?” Biggs perked up a bit at that. He’d already had to jump a couple of checkpoints and well did Alec know how old that got. Fast. 

“Yeah. I know a guy.” Alec stood in the kitchen, sipping from his drink, savoring the slow burn. 

“Your magnanimity knows no bounds.” Biggs only injected a little mocking there, but it still made Alec smile. Man, it was good to have him here.

“Actually, it does ‘cause you’re crashing on the couch.” He nodded to the sad object behind Biggs. He really needed to do something about that, actually. Brain at least could have had the decency to get something that wasn’t so lumpy.

Biggs grinned, flopping back onto it with ease, rocking back and forth while getting comfortable. “I’ve had worse. Thanks, my friend.”

Alec drained his glass, then set it down in the sink. “You’re welcome. Good night.”

***

Biggs had been in the bathroom for _more_ than ten minutes. No guy should take more than ten minutes in a bathroom. It was a rule of the civilized world. “Hey! Little Miss Priss! What the hell are you doing in there?”

“Can’t a guy jerk-off in peace? Man!” The door muffled Biggs’ voice, but Alec could still hear the humor well enough.

He had to snort, roll his eyes, even if Biggs didn’t get the effect. “Like you’d last that long.”

The door opened and out walked Biggs, grin in place. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He held out his arms, did a slow turn, like a model showing off some designer digs rather than the oversized cargos, ripped shirt and unzipped, ash-colored wear-worn sweater covering it. “So? What do you think?”

“Priority number two: get you some new clothes. What’d you steal these off a bum?” Alec picked at the sweater, mouth curling distastefully, and Biggs didn’t even protest.

“Yes.” Completely deadpan…but his lips were twitching.

Alec looked him in the eyes. “I can tell.”

A beat and they both cracked up, Alec letting go of Biggs and shuffling back to lean against the wall, holding his stomach.

“Man, you shoulda shown up _months_ ago. We could have been tearing up the town all this time.”

“Yeah, I could have saved your ass from all your screw-ups.”

Alec made a wounded noise, looking over at him lazily. “You’ve been talking to Max, haven’t you?” he accused.

Biggs nodded. “At the bar. For two seconds and this is all I heard. You sure made an impression.”

“Shut up,” he called, moving into the bathroom where he could hopefully shut out this annoying, irritating person he called a friend.

“No, I’m serious. As a scoring tactic, I dunno, but then again, you’re the master. And I bow down to the master.”

Alec shut the door in his snickering face.

***

They walked into Jam Pony, Biggs discreetly doing the automatic exit check that clearly IDed him as Manticore. Alec nodded to people he knew, including the boss man. “Hey, Normal, buddy. Meet Biggs, an old friend of mine. He’s in the market for a job.” He shoved a thumb in Biggs’s direction, watching as Normal practically melted in front of him, icy exterior giving way to a sad kind of worship.

There were some days that itched at Alec, that he used that…but he tried not to think on it too much. He genuinely liked Normal, so he supposed that counted for something.

“Well, I’ll be. Any friend of the Golden Boy is a friend of Jam Pony or my name isn’t Reagan Ronald.” He came out from behind the desk, thumping Biggs on the shoulder, very unsubtly testing out the merchandise.

Biggs took it in stride, smiling tightly. “Thanks. I think.”

“You as tenacious as your counterpart over there?” He waved to Alec with his clipboard, but his attention stayed fixed on Biggs.

Alec jumped in. “Totally. Hard-worker. Cut from the same cloth as yours truly. He’d be an excellent addition to the Jam Pony family.” He nodded sagely, words of the master, and Normal nodded with him, pushing his glasses back to settle properly.

“Indeed, indeed. One question: who’s your favorite President?”

Shit. He hadn’t gone over that with Biggs and—

“Ronald Reagan.” Without even _hesitating_.

Alec turned back to Normal with a charming grin. “Didn’t I tell you he was perfect?”

“You have outdone yourself this time, my boy. All right, you’re hired. I’ll put a request in for your sector pass and Alec can show you around.”

“Thanks, sir. I won’t let you down.” Normal straightened, pleased at being addressed as sir, nodding in approval as he walked back to dispatch.

Alec slung an arm over Biggs’ shoulders, pulling him in. “Inspired, my man.” Funny, now he smelled like Alec. Must have been the shower.

Biggs tsked under his breath, mock-offended. “And you doubted me.”

“Hey, I didn’t prep you. That coulda ended badly.”

“Gosh, I can talk and think at the same time. Who knew?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

Alec steered him toward the lockers, nodding solemnly. “It really is an improvement on the last time I saw you.”

“Oh, stop it. You’ll make me blush.”

“Looks like you boys are gettin’ all cozy like. Didn’t know you played that game,” OC cut in, coming up from behind and skirting around the two of them to get to her locker. Alec was made aware of the arm he had around Biggs and pulled it back, instead using Biggs as an armrest.

There were principles and then there was giving in.

“Now, now, OC, don’t be spreading rumors already. Biggs just got here.”

“Yeah and you two haven’t stopped cuddling since. It’s cute, Alec. Really,” Max said, appearing from around a bank of lockers and propping herself on the corner, smirking.

“Who wouldn’t want to cuddle with me? I mean, honestly,” Biggs said, in exaggerated disbelief.

OC raised her hand, then pointed down at herself. “You got one, right here.”

“Original Cindy likes the ladies,” he told Biggs, half-conspiratorially.

Biggs nodded, accepting, and then shook his head sadly. “Ah. Damn shame.”

OC rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, like the world of men was just too pathetic for her to handle. “So you just as randy as yo boy over there, huh?” she asked, pulling her bag out of her locker and shutting it with a grating clang he still hadn’t gotten used to.

“Life is all about the little pleasures.” Biggs turned his eyes on Max, smiling slowly. “Max, lookin’ good.”

“Don’t even.” She glared at him, sliding her eyes over him like he was a bug splattered over her helmet and there were important things she needed to be seeing. That was Max, all about the charm.

“Oh, I wouldn’t. You are what would be known as a ‘no-fly zone.’” He indicated her body with a waving hand and fuck him and his bullshit theories.

Max frowned, confused. “Huh?”

Alec jumped in so Biggs couldn’t spread his misinformation on which he apparently hadn’t given up despite Alec’s denials. “Oh, who knows what he’s saying with all those military metaphors. Hey, we need to score you a bike.” With that he pulled Biggs back by the sweater, hard, not missing how Biggs waved them a snappy salute before falling into step with Alec.

“You piece of shit,” Alec said, conversationally, smiling for the audience of Jam Pony.

“I try.”

***

Alec’s fingers felt numb, but he looked and they were still holding the bottle…so he supposed that was good. Biggs snickered as he bumped into a group of girls.

“Sorry, sorry, ladies. Excuse us,” he murmured, pulling on Biggs’ arm and using it to steady himself. They weaved through the crowd and finally found a table. And his people were there. Excellent.

“My people!” he said, stopping and gesturing expansively and getting weird looks from Sketch and Max. Biggs unfortunately didn’t so much stop as run right into the back of Alec, both of them stumbling a bit.

“Oops. Sorry, man.” His apology was somewhat muffled, being as it had been directed into Alec’s back…but whatever.

Alec turned. “You are forgiven for ruining my entrance. But only ‘cause I like you.” He patted Biggs on the cheek and Biggs grinned, eyes glassy.

“Are you two _drunk_?” Max asked, like the thought had honestly never occurred to her.

Biggs brought his hand to his chin, rubbing thoughtfully. “Yes?”

“How in the hell did you two get drunk?”

“Well, there was the stuff in Alec’s apartment,” Biggs pointed out.

“Lot of stuff,” Alec interjected.

“Lot of stuff,” Biggs echoed. “But still, not enough, so we went out and found a liquor store.”

“You guys knocked over a liquor store to get drunk? That’s—that’s—” Max’s spluttering was actually kind of hot when he was drunk. Huh. But she was still wrong.

“Not what happened. Why must you think so little of me? That would be punishing the entrepreneurial spirit and I would never do that, especially not when the aim of that entrepreneurial spirit is to provide us all with delicious mixed drinks,” Alec finished, feeling he’d made his point clear. The confused looks everyone shot him were irrelevant to this matter.

“So if you didn’t knock over a liquor store, how did this happen?” Max waved a hand at what Alec assumed meant their inebriated state and not the fact of their existence, which she knew all about and also, bitched about practically every day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Ooh, he might have gotten off-topic.

“We knocked over a drug dealer,” Alec said, matter-of-fact. Yes, that’s what they were talking about.

“Literally. Like,” Biggs mimed shoving someone, “and ahhhh!” He raised his hands in a silly parody of someone falling over and Alec couldn’t help the giggle-snort. No, really, he couldn’t.

“Biggs, I would like to thank you for that reenactment. It was truly moving.”

“Damn straight.”

“And then we bought—legally purchased, I might add—lots and lots of alcohol. There might have been Everclear shots. Kinda fuzzy on that.” Alec fluttered a hand in the air, and he thought there were shots, but there might have just been the bottles. Did you call it a shot if you took it straight from the bottle? Was there some other, more specific term? This deserved some consideration. It was very important to be accurate when speaking of such an important thing as alcohol and Alec would never want to—

“Oh, you’re not clear on the Everclear?” Biggs snickered, leaning against him like he couldn’t manage to stay up on his own.

“I do not know why I like you. You are not funny.”

“And you’re not using contractions. But I’m pretty and that’s all that matters to you.”

“There is that.” Also, why had he forgone contractions? He should resume that immediately.

“You guys did shots of Everclear? You should be dead!” Sketchy said, jaw slack.

Alec shushed him with his hands, then patted him on the head. “Do not mess with the master, Sketch. No limits apply to the master.”

“Dude, why are you touching me?”

“Not exactly clear on that myself,” he mused, wiggling his fingers in the air. “This is kind of a novel experience for me.”

“Hey, how come you can get drunk and sound fine and I slur and yak and fall asleep weird places?” Sketch asked, looking disgruntled about the whole thing and hmm, yes, Alec supposed that would be an unfortunate series of events if it ever occurred to him and further—

“Alec? You okay?” Sketch asked, looking at him oddly.

“I’m fine.” The world kind of swayed a little, no, wait, was that him swaying? So he repeated it. “I’m fine. It’s all fine.”

“My lips are numb,” Biggs offered, poking his fingers against his mouth repeatedly.

“That’ll put a dent in your social life,” Alec said, nodding sagely at his use of a contraction. That was good. Life was better for it.

Biggs nodded sagely back. They kept nodding and the world kept moving and he was all kinds of fine.

“You two are a couple of morons.” That was Max and Max was…where? The room twirled and oh, there she was, glaring at him. Yeah, that was Max.

“Maxie,” he grinned, shuffling over and pulling her against him, his arms trapping hers against herself and her body flush to his. She struggled but even drunk, hell, he could _so_ take her. Kick her ass from here to Kalamazoo without even trying.

He kept that fact to himself most days.

Consequently, she was trapped and squirming against him and he hmmed into her hair before he pulled away enough so he wasn’t actually eating her hair. “You should have come with us, Maxie. Woulda been fun.”

“What are you—get off me!” she spluttered—hmm, hopefully that didn’t get anything on his shirt, he liked his shirt. It was nice and also, grey. He liked grey. You could blend in really well and—

“Alec!” Oh, right. Max, still trying to get away. Aww, how funny.

“Yes, Max?”

“Let go!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You looked like you needed a hug. Actually, no, I need you to keep me standing.” Ah-ha! He’d found a new use for Max. Excellent.

“I did not need a hug, I am not here to prop you up, and you’re gonna get a knee in a very sensitive place if you don’t step off.” Alec thought about it and hmm, she had managed to squirm her way into a position where she could make good on that and he did like his anatomy.

He shrugged. “Okay.” He loosened his hold and she practically jumped back from him, running hands over herself like she was wiping something off, and Alec’s eyes might have glazed a little at that. That was really hot.

Max’s eyes went round and then shocked.

Oh, had he said that out loud?

Biggs snickered where he was now half-sprawled over the railing. “Fucked,” he sing-songed and Alec _didn’t_ like him. There were _principles_. Manly principles that said you didn’t bring up made-up shit about whatever in front of the objects of that …whatever.

His head hurt. Possibly he needed more alcohol.

Strange coincidence: he had a bottle in his hand. Most excellent. He knew how to put those Manticore planning skills to good use.

He took a swig—was a swig the technical term for a shot from a bottle? Hmm. It was possible.

But people were still looking at him.

“What?” he asked, looking down and no, Max hadn’t gotten anything on his shirt. He looked fine.

_Damn_ fine, if he did say so himself. He grinned at the thought.

“Dude, you said Max was hot,” Sketchy pointed out. Oh, yes, that was it.

“I said Maxie rubbing all over herself was hot. Which it is.”

“I didn’t know you dug Max,” Sketch said, seeming blown by the idea.

“Fucked,” Biggs sing-songed again and it was a shame he was too far to kick. Alec could probably kick him well enough to shut him up, but alas, he was over there. And the room was still swaying.

What was Sketchy saying?

Oh, right. Max was hot. “I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.” That said it all, really. He might even fuck her twice. This was rare in Alec’s world, indeed. These days, anyway

“Ugh! You’re disgusting!” Max said, face getting that pinched look.

“You really shouldn’t do that to your face. It’s quite unattractive,” he helpfully told her. He was all about improving Max’s femininity.

“Like I care what you find attractive.”

“I don’t think I can move. Is that bad?” Biggs asked, apparently moving on from the thought of how fucked Alec was. Alec was all kinds of fine with that.

“Well, you look comfortable.” Sprawled over the railing and half-lying on the table…yeah. “Don’t fall asleep, man.”

“That might be a problem,” Biggs groaned, trying to turn over and only managing to fall onto the ground in heap.

“Yeah, probably time we called it a night,” Alec mused, not moving.

“You think?” And her high, bitchy voice didn’t even grate. Awesome. Drunk was awesome.

Alec smiled, shuffling over and petting her head. “Aw, Maxie. How I enjoy these chats of ours.”

She batted his hand away, glaring at him. It so didn’t have the same effect as usual. Double awesome.

He turned, hearing Biggs’ groan. “Biggs! Up! Time to go.”

Biggs had managed to pull himself to sitting and with a hand from Alec he stood and swayed, but only slightly. There, all was fine.

“Now all we need is to find my apartment. I can totally do that. Just—which way’s North, do you think?” Biggs pointed toward the bathroom and Alec nodded.

“I can work with that.”

Max made a pure, unadulterated disgusted noise from beside them and Alec turned to blink at her. “You’re gonna get yourselves killed and not that I’d normally care, but your friend doesn’t deserve that for your stupidity.”

Flawed logic. “How did his drinking become my fault?”

She swept accusing eyes over him, the edges of her gone kinda soft and fuzzy. “You probably started it.”

“That’s so not—well, no, that’s true,” he admitted, nodding and only mildly distracted by fuzzy!Max and how good she looked. Lickable.

Hmm, maybe he should lick her.

Max just rolled her eyes, grabbing her jacket. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Max! You do care!” Also, her shirt rode up as she slipped into the jacket and more than a little caramel skin was bared for a moment. It was against all guy rules not to look. Damn.

“Keep looking at me like that and I could care less.”

Alec grinned, meeting her eyes again, unrepentant. He turned to the door, mind still back on that little strip of her tummy. What a nice thought to keep him company on the way home.

Just outside she stopped them, nodding to the bike rack. “You guys locked up your bikes?”

Alec thought. “Err—” He looked to Biggs, who shrugged, wide-eyed and fully gone. Probably wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow.

“You lost your bikes?” She not only looked incredulous, she sounded it.

“We didn’t lose them. They’re just—not here. At the moment,” Alec added, just to make that clear.

“Great. Whatever. I’m taking you home and you can figure it out in the morning.” They weaved their way to her baby, at which point it just seemed to occur that three people were not going to fit on it. 

“I have to walk you home?” she asked, mewling kind of pathetically. He kept that thought to himself. She grunted and pulled her jacket around her more closely. “You better hope we don’t run into any trouble on the way.” 

Biggs had stiffened in Alec’s grip and suddenly pulled away, stumbling over and landing half on the motorcycle, practically purring. “I have seen a vision of heaven.” He leaned over and sprawled out over the bike, ass in the air and looking utterly ridiculous. Alec had to laugh.

Max didn’t seem so amused. “Get the hell off there before you scratch something!”

Biggs actually petted the bike and it made Alec double over, trying to catch his breath. “Oh, man. Biggs, I didn’t know you had a fetish.”

“We need to acquire some of these, man. Bicycles are for pussies.”

Alec kept on snickering and it was interesting that he couldn’t seem to stop. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that. But, c’mon, off. Max wouldn’t like it if you spooged all over her baby.”

“Ugh! Guys are revolting.” She pushed Biggs off, turning up her nose at how he landed on the pavement in a heap. Yeah, that was Max all right.

***

There was concrete in Alec’s head. Also, someone was in his bed. Not touching, but he could feel the heat. He sniffed. A very male someone. A very _familiar_ male someone.

Alec kicked out and Biggs went a-flying, the grunt and thump letting Alec know he’d been safely deposited on the floor. Well. Things were looking up already.

Except where he had concrete in his head. Fuck.

“Jeez, Alec, what the fuck?”

“Told you you had to take the couch, fucker,” he mumbled into his pillow.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, like he just remembered that fact. “Well. That’s the first time I’ve been kicked out of bed.”

“Serves you right.”

“That made me lose my morning wood.” A brief pause. “No, wait, I was wrong.”

Alec groaned into his pillow. “Don’t need to know the state of your dick, 511.”

“What can I say? Once you get me up it’s hard to bring me back down again.”

Time to move the fuck on. Jeez. “Fuck, how much did we drink last night?” Alec tested out moving…and that wasn’t the best plan.

“No idea. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Alec carefully shifted over to look at Biggs, still flat on the floor, pressing his head to the edge of the mattress. “Max walking us home.”

Biggs frowned. His hair was a fucking mess. It was kind of hilarious, actually. “Yeah? I stopped at…hmm. You called Max hot.”

“And thanks for being such a dick about it, too.” Alec reached down and flicked him between the eyes because, hell, just _because_. He _deserved_ it.

“It’s my duty in life to ride your ass.” He paused, seeming to get what he just said, then broke into a wicked grin. “Heh.”

Alec snickered, too. “That’ll happen.”

A thought seemed to occur to Biggs: “Hey, I didn’t do anything embarrassing after that did I?”

Alec put on his most bland face, like no, nothing wrong here. “Well, you tried to molest Max’s motorcycle.”

Biggs stilled, obviously thinking, like a little hamster running on its wheel. And going exactly nowhere. “Max has a motorcycle? That I molested.”

“Ass in the air and all of it. It was very dignified,” Alec assured him.

“I’m a classy kinda guy, what can I say? Anyway, we should get a couple of those. Way more efficient than this pussy bike shit you’ve got going on.” It was Biggs the broken record! Kind of awesome, still. Also, amazing how fixated the man could be about the stupid—

“Bikes…fuck. I think we lost our bikes last night,” he groused, rubbing a hand over his eyes and clearing the grime from them. Fuck. That wasn’t good.

Biggs leaned up on his elbows, his usual worried look seeping in. Yeah, his second day on the job and already he was a fuck-up. He’d hate that. “Lost? We had them…wait, when did we last have them?”

“We had them when we went to find the drug dealer.”

“Aw, man. Did we leave our fucking bikes at the scene of the crime?” Biggs slumped back onto the wooden floor, looking at the ceiling accusingly.

Alec groaned, rolling over onto hands and knees and sitting up, ignoring the screaming in his brain. “Get up. We need to go get those before someone uses them to bend us over.”

***

Because his life was his life, the bikes weren’t where they should have been. They’d settled them across from the drug dealer’s pad, behind a non-descript grey industrial building…and now they were gone.

“Fuck,” Alec muttered, looking around for where they could have possibly gone. He and Biggs crept closer to the drug dealer’s base camp, some abandoned factory, so ubiquitous in Seattle these days.

“Fuck,” he said again, under his breath just in case there was anyone nearby. Because this was his life.

“Twenty-three, no, twenty-four guys. AK-47s, M1 Garands, StG44s, fuck, are those SKS’? What’d they do, resupply directly from the Russian military?” Biggs finished his assessment, voice gone flat and hard, all Manticore.

“And the Romanians. Those AIMs look familiar?”

“Now that you mention it,” Biggs said, slipping back into a conversational tone. “But why the hell would a drug dealer need a personal army well-equipped enough to take over Canada in a week?”

“Oh, come on. _I_ could take over Canada in a week. With nothing more than some spitballs and my smile.”

“Because that was so the point of my question,” Biggs mocked, looking back at Alec briefly and rolling his eyes.

“Fine, fine. I have no idea and who cares? Do you see our bikes anywhere?” Alec was busy scanning himself, to no avail. “Where the fuck did they—”

“There,” Biggs breathed, gesturing toward a tarp-covered lump. Alec focused in and yep, he could see a very familiar tire tread sticking out from where the wind had made one of the corners flap up.

Alec groaned, low and pained. “Right, smack in the middle of two dozen armed guys. So my luck.”

“Yeah. Alec, we can’t take them all on our own. Maybe ten to one. We’re gonna need another guy.” 

Alec hung his head and groaned some more. He had a feeling he knew exactly who that other guy was gonna be.

“Maybe Mole could take a stroll,” Alec offered, reaching and he knew it.

Biggs looked at him like he’d sprouted another head. “The transhuman? In broad daylight? Are you really that scared of a little girl?”

“Fuck you. Also, you would be, too, if you knew what was good for you.”

Biggs just looked at him, military man brought to the fore, and fuck. Alec wasn’t getting out of this. “Fine,” he groused, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Logan’s number. Please let her not be there…or anywhere.

“Hey, Alec.”

“Logan, buddy. I’m in a bit of a jam here. Max wouldn’t happen to be there, would she?” Please, say no.

“Yeah, hang on.” Fuck!

“Oh…great.”

“Let me guess, you screwed up and now you need my help.” Max’s voice was dry across the line, but he could just see her rolling her eyes at Logan as she spoke.

Alec cocked his head, even if she couldn’t see it. “Well, I dunno if ‘screwed up’ is the correct term…”

“What’d you do, Alec?” She sounded impatient, which meant he had to talk fast.

“Remember our bikes?”

“The ones you lost?”

“Misplaced. Very briefly.”

She snorted, but didn’t say anything. “Yeah, what about ‘em?”

“They happen to be sitting smack in the middle of two dozen armed drug dealers.”

“And you and Biggs are hungover like the dumbasses you are and now you need my help. Typical.”

“Well…yes.”

“You owe me.”

“Any time you want me to be your love slave, Maxie, just say the word.”

“I can still hang up the phone.”

“Aww, you wouldn’t do that. This is me we’re talking about.”

She grunted something uncomplimentary under her breath, which Alec chose to ignore in favor if his continued existence.

“So you gonna help or what?”

“Yeah, gimme your address.”

***

“Okay, now I’m bored,” Alec complained, tapping his fingers on his knee. “And my head hurts. And I’m hungry. I knew we shoulda stopped for breakfast.”

Biggs’ voice, when it floated back to him, was wry. “Remember when I used to be the annoying one on missions and you were all stiff and stoic?”

“Bet you’re missing those days right about now.”

“Really am.”

Alec shot a tart look to the back of his head, but didn’t take the bait. Instead he watched the guards…do nothing. “What are they doing, anyway?”

“Waiting for something, looks like. Also, drinking.”

“Ahh, I love it when they make it easier for us.”

They both turned at the scrape of a boot against the pavement, relaxing when they confirmed it was Max.

“Took you long enough,” Alec grumbled without heat. He might have gotten a little distracted by the way her pants just molded to her ass when she crouched.

Biggs snapped his fingers in front of Alec’s face and what? Oh, right. Drug dealer and crew.

“Sit-rep?” Max breathed, pushing Alec out of the way to get a better look. 

“Two dozen guys, armed to the teeth, waiting around for something,” Biggs answered promptly, falling back on training long pounded into them.

“Drug dealer?” she asked, scanning the front of the building.

“He went inside with three guys about seven minutes ago. Hasn’t come out yet.”

“What do you think—are those Romanian AIMs?” she asked, attention getting distracted.

“It seems no one ever acquainted dear drug dealer with the concept of overkill,” Alec said, watching over her shoulder. She jostled back, putting some space between them, and Alec just glared.

“Hey, kids, no playing footsie on a mission.”

“He wishes,” Max scoffed, trying out her glare on Biggs.

“Don’t know what you’re missing,” Alec murmured, right against her ear. She shoved her elbow back again, but he caught it this time, grinning.

Max pulled herself away from him and visibly turned herself back to the situation at hand. “Okay, so we split up and take ‘em down.”

“What about whatever they’re waiting for?” Biggs asked, frowning.

“We don’t know when it’s expected and I don’t have all day. We get in, get out, before it ever shows. Everyone clear?”

“Crystal,” Alec muttered. And why did she get to be in charge, anyway?

“Good, let’s go.”

***

Everything went smoothly right up until the point the world remembered that this was Alec’s life and so things couldn’t go smoothly. Which was also the point that a big, loud truck rumbled up and guys spilled out, spraying them with bullets.

And they were almost done, had taken down twenty of the bastards and had only the boss and his three lackeys to go.

Life was so fucking unfair sometimes.

Blurring to avoid bullets wasn’t exactly hard, but his head still felt like an anvil—an anvil currently in use—and it all just made him want to grumble and go home and sink into bed for the next week or so.

He might have gotten a little rough with the guys in the truck, as a result. Honestly, who could blame him? Besides, they were alive. 

“What, did they personally offend you or something?” Biggs asked on a grin, tying up the last of the guards on the truck, teeth flashing.

“It’s too early in the morning to be dealing with smelly Russians, man,” he whined back, rubbing his eyes. One of said smelly Russians tried yelling at him and Alec’s fist shot out automatically, knocking the guy unconscious and returning the world to blessed silence.

Except for Biggs snickering at him.

“Shut up.”

“Remind me never to get drunk with you again. You’re a bitch the morning after, man.”

“Go get the bikes, asswipe.”

Biggs splayed his hands, nonthreatening, and ambled over to the tarp. Max walked up, eating an apple with this pleased little smile on her face, so obviously the drug dealer was taken care of.

Alec nodded to her and quickly moved around to the back of the truck. “Now, let’s see what was so important that you needed two dozen armed guards,” he mumbled, releasing the latch on the truck and rolling up the door.

His low whistle sounded around him even before he became aware that he’d made the noise.

“What?” Max asked, coming around to look.

Crates, boxes, filled with guns. Assault rifles, small arms, dear God, were those rocket launchers?

“Looks like our drug dealer was getting into the arms business,” Alec said, hopping up and poking through some of the crates. “High-quality Russian military gear.”

Max tsked. “A drug dealer with aspirations. Let’s make sure his stay in the arms world is a short one.”

Alec turned his head and smiled wickedly at her. “I’m thinkin’ TC could use an influx of new weaponry.”

She nodded, mouth curving. “Read my mind.”

“Hey, guys! Come take a look at this!” Biggs called, gesturing them over. Alec hopped down from the truck, following Max and really only checking out her ass a little bit.

Biggs was seated on a motorcycle, stroking it, and making the most obscene sounds you could imagine.

“That’s what he sounds like when he comes,” Alec joked automatically. Then he really thought about what he’d just said: “Actually, wait, that’s disturbing. Never do that again.”

“How would _you_ know?” Max asked, turning to eye him.

Biggs glanced a sly thing at Max. “What, Alec didn’t tell you about the threesomes? Oh, there were threesomes.”

“I’m starting to regret putting your ass up, you know that?”

“No, you’re not. I just got us a shipment of Russian arms and _motorcycles_. Look at these.” He physically laid down on the bike, still petting it like it would arch and purr from the attention, and that was also really fucking disturbing.

“Actually, drinking was my idea so I think _I_ got us—”

“Oh, honestly. Would you two shut up? We need to get out of here before someone comes. So grab your bikes and the motorcycles and stick ‘em in the back of the truck. We’re hauling all this to TC.”

Biggs hopped off, nodding, but he looked considering. “You know, we could use these at work. They’re much more efficient than bicycles.”

“You just wanna wear sunglasses and look cool for the ladies all day,” Alec said, moving to grab their bikes.

“There is that.”

Alec snickered and carried both their bikes to the truck, stuffing them behind some boxes.

“But they could also be good for rescuing transgenics in trouble, you know? Better than bikes, anyway,” Biggs continued, walking over a motorcycle as Max followed with the other one.

Max looked at him like she was impressed and _c’mon_ , Alec totally deserved some credit for knocking over the drug dealer and then losing their bikes in the first place. Seriously.

Max finally turned to him, to give him the credit he deserved. “Your friends are much more useful than you are, you know that, Alec?”

Yep. His life. “Gee, thanks.”

“Now, now. If Alec weren’t around, his friends wouldn’t be either.” Thankfully Biggs was really his friend and would come to his defense. Alec approved of friends. Officially.

Max flicked her hair out of her face and shrugged off his rebuke. “Well, whatever. It’s a good idea, Biggs. We’ll organize it when we get back to TC. For now, let’s get going.”

They loaded up the last of what they wanted, Alec waving and blowing a kiss to the few guards that had awakened in the interim. He slammed the truck door, starting the engine, and moving off slowly through the Seattle streets. And it was still early enough that they wouldn’t be grotesquely late for work.

Excellent.

“Good times, my man,” Biggs said beside him, thumping him on the shoulder companionably. Max followed in the back, more to ensure she and Alec didn’t kill one another than anything else. Plus, he had the feeling she secretly wanted to check out those motorcycles when no one was watching.

He so knew her.

“Just like the old days.” He grinned and made a turn, rooting into his jacket and pulling out his cell, dialing the number by rote.

He picked up on the third ring. “Detective Sung.”

“Matt, it’s your favorite Good Samaritan. How would you like a lead on some very naughty drug dealers?”

“Am I gonna need SWAT like last time?”

“Oh, come on, one little hostage situation and it’s a black mark on my record for eternity. Can we say ‘isolated incident?’”

“Yeah, yeah, but you didn’t answer my question.” Alec slowed the truck, waiting for a couple of kids to hurry up crossing the road.

“Huh? Oh, no, no SWAT. Our friendly neighborhood drug dealers are a little tied up at the moment.”

Beside him Biggs laughed.

***

The news blared loud and melodramatic in the room, the shocking discovery of a drug-ring cum crime syndicate based out of Moscow and making inroads into Seattle. Thank goodness Seattle PD was out to save the day.

“You know, I should really get a reward,” Alec said, munching on some pork rinds at his little table. “I mean, I did call in the tip.”

Matt Sung spoke to the press, flashes going off in his face, even as he remained unfazed: “The citizens of Seattle can rest easier tonight knowing these dangerous international criminals are behind bars.”

Biggs made an amused sound in his throat, taking a swig from his beer. “You got wasted, stole money from a drug dealer, who then took our bikes hostage, and had to call in a girl to back us up in getting them back. Oh, and then you stole a shipment of illegal arms in the process. How do you deserve a reward in any of that?” He waved his beer, as if illustrating his point, and Alec slid annoyed eyes to him.

“Come on, results. It’s all about results. No one cares how you got them, so long as the bad guys end up in jail at the end of the day.” Point made, he popped another pork rind into his mouth, chewing slowly.

“Pretty sure a judge and jury would have something to say about that.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. All I’m saying is that Sung’s gonna get a commendation for answering a phone. I think I deserve some spending money after beating the crap out of a dozen guys.” He made the international sign of money, thumb and forefinger rubbing together, and Biggs just shook his head and looked around for something.

Biggs tossed him the phone on a grin. “Make that call. No, really, I wanna listen in.”

Alec frowned, looking down at the plastic contraption in his hand. “Maybe later,” he said primly, sticking his nose in the air and making Biggs laugh.

“You are so full of shit. You’re happy that the bad guys got put away, I can tell.”

Alec frowned. “No, I’m bitter that I didn’t get anything out of the deal.”

Biggs just shook his head, like Alec was an unruly child and Biggs knew so much better. “You’re such a fuckin’ liar. Besides, you got a motorcycle out of the deal. And now you don’t have to pedal along every day at work because of yours truly.” He gestured to himself, and fluttered his eyelashes, like some kind of come-hither girly look, and Alec had to throw a pork rind at him. It was an imperative.

“Normal hasn’t said yes yet,” he pointed out.

“He said I’d been raised from reprobate to cretin in his eyes, which you’ve assured me is a good thing, so he’s gonna say yes. We get to ride our motorcycles at work now and hey, I’ll even chip in and buy you some shades tomorrow so you can be as stylin’ as me,” Biggs grinned, flicking a Cheeto at him in retaliation.

The waste of food going on in his apartment was both shocking and appalling.

“Please, I out-style you without even trying. No one can resist these eyes.” He gestured to said eyes. “No wonder you want to cover them up.”

“Think Max would have something to say about that.” Biggs grinned lecherously, raising his eyebrows in what Biggs thought was knowledge. But so wasn’t. Really.

“Jeez, would you get off that already? You’re like a dog with a bone; it’s really sad.” Alec nodded, serene. Totally helping out a friend, that’s all he was doing.

“Maybe if you’d quite staring at her ass like that dog slavering over that bone.”

Come on, he was a guy. He so couldn’t be held accountable for that. “What? She has a nice ass!”

Biggs snickered. “So royally fucked,” he sing-songed and Alec did hate him. A lot. Plus, he had way too good a memory and he noticed way too many things. Stupid friends and their stupid eyes that see stupid things.

“I hate you,” Alec grumbled, looking away.

Biggs’ snickering stopped immediately…which was a thing that could be considered not good, now that he considered it. He dreaded looking back, not that he could avoid it.

Biggs slid assessing eyes over him, the glare from the TV making them glassy, but Alec could still see their meaning well enough.

“Seriously?” Biggs asked, voice gone low and quiet and not at all teasing. “Like, really?” he tried again, expression getting more and more disbelieving.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alec shot back, deliberately obtuse and they both knew it.

“Wow. I’m—wow.”

“Shut up.” Yeah, that could work.

“I never thought I’d see this day.”

“Okay, now you’re just breaking the guy rules.” Alec got up and moved to put away the pork rinds because tidiness was very important and Alec was a tidy person.

Biggs followed him, leaning against the kitchen entranceway and blinking some more, like if he kept blinking the visage in front of him would start making sense. Alec hated it, but he felt himself flush at that. Fuck. This sucked really hard.

“Dude.” So much wrapped up in that one word, surprise and such a depth of emotion Alec would need mining gear to get to all of it. He moved back toward Biggs, trying the confrontational route.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Also, I’m kicking you out.” Yeah, that oughta do it.

Biggs blinked, nodded, finally accepting the first for what it was and what it meant, which made something a little warm grow inside Alec, not that he’d ever admit that aloud in a million billion years. Not even under torture. Or Max’s glare. 

But then the second penetrated the fog in Biggs’ brain and a little shock slipped into his face. “What? But I just got here.”

Alec nodded once. Resolute. “Yep, and now your ass is grass. You are gone.”

“Where am I gonna go?” He actually sounded a little desperate there, so Alec had to take pity on him.

“Huh? Oh, number 11’s moving out today. Took the liberty of forging your signature for it. Hope you don’t mind.” He grinned, totally unrepentant. Biggs so deserved that.

Biggs paused, face flitting through about twelve gajillion emotions, from relief to gratitude to mischief to disbelief. The he settled on annoyance.

“You fuck.”

“Is that the way to repay the kindness of your friends? This is the kind of thanks I get?”

“You fucking fuck, you let me think you were kicking me into the streets.”

“Obviously you don’t have a very high opinion of me if you think I’d do that. I’m kind of offended, actually. No, really. You’ve wounded me terribly.” Alec laid a hand across his heart, pulling on a mournful face.

“Oh, ‘wounded me terribly,’ please.” He paused, shaking his head, eyes lit up now with amusement, like Alec was just the best thing ever. Alec grinned back; he didn’t get that a lot and really, he kind of was the best thing ever.

“Man, really, thank you. You’re the best.” Biggs pulled him into a hug, thumping him squarely on the back.

Alec allowed it, grinning. “I knew you just wanted to get your grimy hands all over me. Perv.”

“Oh, yeah. Who can resist you, right?” Biggs said, taking the opportunity to cop a feel, squeezing Alec with his arms as his hands traveled south.

Which made the little shove even more warranted, but Biggs was grinning, the huge dork he was, and Alec just shook his head.

“Man, it’s good to see you.” That thought had kept popping up over the past few days and he still couldn’t get over it.

“Of course it is. And hey! We’re gonna be neighbors. Awesome. I can bust in and steal your booze any time I like.”

Alec nodded, considering. “Think I’m gonna have to invest in a security system.”

Biggs scoffed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, like it would commiserate with him over Alec’s idiocy. “Like there’s one on the _planet_ that I couldn’t get through. Nope, you made this bed. Might as well get comfy.”

Alec grinned at his friend. “Eh, I guess there are worse things that could happen.”

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


End file.
